


Gezwungen

by WhereOurVoicesSound



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-21
Updated: 2017-04-28
Packaged: 2018-10-22 05:49:08
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,710
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10691019
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhereOurVoicesSound/pseuds/WhereOurVoicesSound
Summary: Harry Potter was supposedly dead. The ‘supposedly’ part was new though, it had come about once the ‘dead’ bit had been challenged, as an uncanny lookalike of the boy had been seen in Muggle London. Now, Severus Snape must get close to the boy to find out if he’s really the Potter child because there was the little matter of a bit of Voldemort’s soul being held in him.





	1. Chapter 1

_ Prologue _

 

Sarah Creevey took the stairs two at a time. The summer job she had working at the Grangers’ dental practice looked good on the resume, which was very important to her. Unlike her brothers, she had chosen to stay with one foot in both worlds, the muggle one and the Wizarding one. Even though Voldemort was finally dead, the Wizengamot was still made up of pureblood bigots and Sarah wasn’t as optimistic as her brothers were about her job options. So, during summer she took lessons in all the muggle subjects and got an internship working at the Grangers’ practice after Hermione put in a good word for her.

 

During the one year when Voldemort had been fully alive and kicking, using Lucius Malfoy to take over the ministry and Imperius-ing Wizengamot members to pass restrictive laws for muggleborns while carrying out raids in muggle areas, Sarah had been brought into the Order of the Phoenix. Her brothers had complained saying she was too young but Professor Snape had put his foot down saying she was too useful as someone who knew of magic but had taken the year off from Hogwarts to do some muggle studying. And she  _ had _ been useful, Sarah had been in consistent contact with some higher ups in the government, passing on whatever information the Order gathered on any possible attacks on muggles.

 

In fact, Sarah was pretty sure that Snape thought her dual education plan was a good one, although he’d never shown it. She could tell by the relieved nostril flaring he had done while looking in her general direction that one time after Hermione and Ron had announced their engagement and that Hermione would be a housewife since the ministry was restricting Muggleborn hiring.  Another time and Hermione would have led a protest against the ministry, now she twiddled her thumbs.

 

But Sarah couldn’t fault her entirely. The war was over and people weren’t dying anymore, sure, but the bigotry was still there. With Dumbledore dead and Snape being a Slytherin double spy, the only true advocate of muggle and Muggleborn rights was Arthur Weasley, who wasn’t exactly the icon the movement had been looking for.

 

What they needed was a champion and they just didn’t have one.

 

It was with these absent thoughts in mind that she took the elevator down to the parking garage of the hospital she had been sent to. She was supposed to give them some documents, dental records for the morgue. Some car caught on fire or crashed or something. It sounded interesting but she didn’t care much for dead bodies, they freaked her out.

 

The whole place was silent and it gave her the creeps honestly, especially since she had corpses on her mind. So the loud tinkling sound that suddenly started and echoed in the place sent her shrieking. She quieted down quickly, especially as a gruff voice cried out, “Sorry about that!”

 

Her heart still beating out of her chest she walked in the direction of the sound to find a man sitting on the metal staircase in the corner, his longish messy black curls held back by a thin wavy metal headband, eyes a bright green behind sleek silver glasses and neatly maintained scruff running down the sides of his face. A lit cigarette was in his mouth and a lighter lying on the ground near him, clearly the thing he had dropped.

 

He grinned and Sarah was struck by a sense of déjà vu, “Sorry for scaring you, long day, hands aren’t quite working right.”

 

He wore a doctor’s coat over his clothes with a clip attaching his id card to the pocket of it. Harvey Flannel? Pathology, she could make out, the rest was a bit squiggly.

 

But that déjà vu-like feeling grew.

 

“Are you alright?” He asked, voice raspy from the smoke he was indulging in. Another time and she might have told him this was a public space and he shouldn’t smoke there, but she was rattled and it was throwing her off.

 

“Fine,” Sarah said and fled. Instead of heading home as she usually did, she went to Grimmauld place instead. Sirius didn’t live there anymore, not since he’d been pardoned and no longer had to hide. He had signed the house over to the Order as their official headquarters and bound Kreacher to the house. Right now, Professor Snape was probably in the study, Fleur and Tonks likely in the library discussing the Auror exchange program that they’d been trying to push with France and various others scattered over the house. Sarah ran across the wall where the house elf heads had once been mounted and where pictures of the former members were hung. 

 

There was a special picture in the middle of the Potters, Lily, James and the baby Harry. James Potter wiggled his finger under his son’s chin and grinned when the green eyed baby gurgled in delight, and Sarah realised exactly why she was experiencing that déjà vu and ran up to the study immediately.

 

* * *

When it came down to it, Snape was always surprised by how easy it was defeating Voldemort. Oh, there had been a few difficult years, to be specific the ones when Dumbledore was in charge. The man hoarded information, kept it to himself and wouldn’t let anyone help him at all. It was the kind of arrogance that the world hadn’t seen because it was too blind to it, had even encouraged it. Albus had been vaunted by the Light while feared by the Dark, and thus had grown to feel too self-important. The one man who dared to criticise him was Aberforth and he had always been more fixated on Albus’ past transgressions rather than his current ones. So Albus had been allowed to get away with things, keep secrets and play chess with their lives for so long.

 

Pity then that he was so bad at the game.

 

Dumbledore had taken years to find all that information on horcruxes and lost his life to the curse on the one he wore on his ring finger. Snape had found all the memories Albus had left behind and as the new head of the Order of the Phoenix, managed to find and destroy all the horcruxes. Lucius’ attempts to slip the diary had been caught by Dumbledore and while he hadn’t found a way to destroy it, Snape knew well enough what to do.

 

Fiendfyre. 

 

Finding the rest had been only slightly more difficult. The locket had been found easily enough, Snape feeding the potion he had created to a transfigured bunny. Knowing Regulus as well a she did, he knew that there was no one the younger Black brother would trust with the locket but Kreacher. From there it was easy enough to figure it out, Voldemort did have a rather unseemly obsession with the Hogwarts houses, he would have wanted to taint artifacts of the other founders as well. And while Flitwick negotiated with the goblins to have Bellatrix’s vaults searched, discreetly, Snape had created a potion that would allow for the soul fragment to detach from the container and thus safeguard priceless artifacts. The diary was worthless enough but to use fiendfyre to destroy beyond all repair Slytherin’s locket, Ravenclaw’s diadem and Hufflepuff’s chalice would break whatever tiny bit of heart Snape had.

 

It had been easy. Draco was their spy this time around, tired of all the cruciatus’ thrown around like candy. He had mixed in the potion to Voldemort's food and Nagini’s rats. Voldemort had died where Nagini had writhed in pain but ultimately lived.

 

And he had needed no prophecy, no Chosen One as Albus had said they would in the letters he had left the Order his final will and testament, the ones that urged Snape to find Harry Potter, certain as he had been that the boy was out there somewhere.

 

Ridiculous, that, everyone knew that Harry Potter was dead by dragonpox. The news had been all over the Wizarding world’s newspapers, especially since it had happened in the year when Potter was supposed to join Hogwarts, a good 14 years ago. It was probably for the best, for all that eh might have wished that Lily’s child lived, he was a horcrux after all. Nagini might have lived after the potion had been administered but by then she wasn’t really a snake only another dimension of Voldemort. A child would have been just as easily possessed and— 

 

“Professor Snape!” The voice, screeching away accompanied by the thundering of footsteps on the landing broke him out of his maudlin thought, “Professor Snape, I think I saw Harry Potter!” cried out Sarah, younger sister to the infamous Creevey brothers and Snape felt his world collapse around him like a house of cards.

 


	2. Chapter 2

 

Not for the first time, Severus was glad of his Occlumency skills and that they let him keep a straight face. It meant that as Miss Creevey ranted and raved, his face did not betray the sheer chaos of his thoughts.

 

A horcrux, still out there! A shard of Voldemort's soul, free and walking about in Muggle London! How could they have missed this?

 

Penance, he supposed, for his arrogance in thinking he had done it, succeeded where Dumbledore had failed. Severus had failed too, it seemed.

 

"Do you know what this means?!" Miss Creevey said, ecstatic, "Do you know what it could do for the Muggleborn movement! Harry Potter, half blood and the Boy-Who-Lived, alive!"

 

"Yes, I'm sure Harry Potter, who lives in _Muggle_ London with a _Muggle_ job and a _Muggle_ life is really deeply invested in equality of Muggleborns in the Wizarding world, both of which do not exist as far he knows of it." Severus commented dryly, while trying to think of any contacts he might have in the muggle medical field that might get him access to the young man.

 

It was with a jolt that he realised that this didn't just mean that Voldemort's soul was still out there anchored to the world by Harry Potter, but his Unbreakable Vow tethering his loyalties to him and the Life Debt he owed James Potter, that the boy had inherited, still existed too. He was _bound_ to this young man that he had never met, whose news of death he had encountered with mixed feelings. And his alarm only grew as he realised exactly what Sarah Creevey intended to do.

 

"We need to tell him about magic." She said with utter absolution in her voice, "He's just the perfect figurehead we need, can you imagine it? Harry Potter, the magical boy who lived a muggle life. He'll need someone to help him adjust of course and who better than one of the many muggleborns who know how to live with their feet in both worlds. We can spin it our way, have him do interviews to the press, talking about how he finds the prejudice of the world so disconcerting, how he was quite sad that his martyr mother would have had to live with such conditions because of her blood status."

 

The snarl that wanted to leap out of Severus at the thought of abusing Lily's memory for such a thing was barely contained and even his Occlumency mustn't have helped hide it because young Sarah was quite taken aback at his relatively silent reaction.

 

And even as he controlled his anger Severus marvelled at the thought of how utterly Slytherin this muggleborn Hufflepuff was being.

 

"Miss Creevey you are quite lost here, you would have been very much at home in the pureblood Slytherin politics." His words produced the desired flinch and the shame he expected from her, "And you're getting quite ahead of yourself. We don't even know if this boy you met for a brief second even is the young Mister Potter. I am given to believe that the many billions in the Muggle world make it so even uncanny resemblances are quite common."

 

"I'm going to find out if—"

 

Severus cut her off before she could even finish the sentence, "You will do no such thing."

 

The shock on her face—what on Earth was going on? Surely, Severus hadn't been so agreeable in the last few years that people had forgotten that he was still the snarky, git of a Slytherin Potions master? He'd have to remind people before they started expecting too many niceties out of him.

 

"Professor Snape, we can't just keep him away from _Magic_!"

 

"That's enough of that Miss Creevey, if this was your brothers I'd understand the vehemence but do not think me so stupid that I would fall for that routine. _You_ , of all people, talking about keeping a person from magic?" Even at eleven Sarah Creevey had had to be convinced and persuaded to go to Hogwarts and assured that taking her magic away so she could live as a normal muggle was not an option that would leave her alive. She didn't have the awe for magic that her brothers or really any of the other Muggleborns involved in the Movement did. Her motivations were purely related to her own life opportunities, incredibly Slytherin of her, again.

 

Which is why he would have to be more careful with her.

 

"I will be approaching Mister Potter with the news, and only after confirming that he is, in fact, Harry Potter."

 

The exact details of the horcruxes were known to very few people and the facts of Harry Potter being a horcrux were known only to him and the portrait of Albus in Hogwarts. While he didn't want to be like Albus, in this instance he would take up the mantle of being a hypocrite and keep that information to himself.

 

But the dissatisfaction twisting on Miss Creevey's face suggested that he'd best give her some different wild goose to chase before she went after his target. "Talk to the people you know, put out some feelers and see if there's anything you can actually use him for. It's been decades since he was truly relevant, even if you were to use him as your mouthpiece you'll need to lay down the groundwork, remind people of him. You might be able to use Potter's name even if this man isn't him. A martyr doesn't need to be alive to be of some use."

 

The look she gave him told him that she wasn't buying what he was selling but finally the chit went off, leaving him alone to make his plans. After all these years, it was once again time for a horcrux hunt.

 

* * *

 

As it turned out, a misread name on a tag wasn't enough to go by to investigate a person. Severus had, under polyjuice as a random muggle, gone to the hospital himself to find out what he could about the man who was supposed to be Harry Potter. But when he asked for a Harvey Flannel, as Miss Creevey had said she had read on the ID card, he found no one by that name worked in the hospital. When he insisted it was something like that and that this person worked for the Pathology department, he was told to vacate the premises.

 

Later on, he found that there had been an attack on one of the doctors working there by a patient's grieving relative and they were taking all the employees' safety very seriously.

 

A bit of Legilimency would have solved that easily enough but the many CCTV cameras meant that any discomfort the man at the information desk felt would be recorded and the place might be on higher alert.

 

Thus, loathe as Severus was to involve others he had to do it. Luckily, the Grangers were a smart couple and understood the concepts of discretion and danger far better than anyone else Severus had met. Going through a war hadn't made the Weasleys any more subtle or cautious but this muggle couple did. And while they were quite adamant on not using their contacts to get him inside the hospital, they were more than willing to find out the name.

 

Severus would have to suggest spectacles for Sarah because what she had seen as Harvey Flannel, turned out to be Harry Flamont.

 

And that seed of suspicion, that perhaps Sarah was right and it really was Harry Potter, took root in Severus' head. It was a distressing thought and he hoped against hope that it was just a coincidence, before growing disgusted with his thoughts. He really was getting soft in his old age, to be thinking of such a thing as hope. No, this was very likely Harry Potter, and the horcrux probably resided in the man, Severus would probably have to kill the man and consequently lose his magic as he broke the Unbreakable Vow he had sworn to protect him.

 

Such was his luck.

 

But hope or no hope, lucky or unlucky, Severus was still a thorough man. So he would observe the man to gauge his weakness, find the soft spots where it would be easy to stab him.

 

Luckily, he had an Animagus that was perfect for that.

 

When he was young he had been quite disappointed in his Animagus form. He knew in his early meditations that it would take the form of some bird, had hoped it would be something majestic like a raven. He'd grown up on tales of them of both kinds, muggle and wizarding, they had fascinated him. When the feathers had become obviously black in the dreams he had been overjoyed only to be disappointed as he realised his small wingspan made it impossible for him to be a raven. And then he had hoped to at least be a carrion crow, grown comfortable with the thought. So when the time came and he finally shifted into his Animagus form he made sure to be near a mirror so he could see and was disappointed to find himself staring at a blackbird, ever so common.

 

But as he had matured he had grown comfortable with his form and the anonymity it provided him. A raven or crow would be noticed, a nuisance, but a blackbird might as well not have been there, so easily were they overlooked.

 

So he settled onto a beam in the parking garage of the hospital where Miss Creevey had first met Harry Flamont. He had looked in through all the windows to see if perhaps he could spy on him through them but it seemed that the pathology labs didn't have windows.

 

It took a long wait but finally he came into contact with Harry Flamont and he was taken aback completely.

 

There was no doubt this was the son of Lily and James Potter. The physical similarities were hard to ignore.

 

But despite being so alike James Potter, he was surprisingly attractive. There was a sincerity to the smile he was directing at his friend, none of that roguish grinning Potter did, nor the sweet smile carefully bestowed upon people by Lily. A crooked grin that spoke of laughter. And that was all completely separate from the fact that he was undeniably beautiful. The bones weren't as delicate as they needed to be to be called pretty, but the narrow sharpness of the jaw leant him away from the classical handsome. Miss Creevey hadn't mentioned that.

 

He held himself differently from them, more at ease than either of his parents had ever been. Lily had been graceful but in a manner that was practiced and Potter had always thrown his shoulders back in an arrogant confidence. Neither had even been quite as comfortable in their skin as their son was.

 

But then, they never really had the chance to grow up and mature to that point. Parents at 19, dead at 21.

 

He was walking with a helmet in hand to the corner where the motorcycles were parked. His friend, a petite woman with a multitude of piercings and long ash blonde hair tied into a braid so tight it looked like the stinger of some insect was frowning at him.

 

"Have I mentioned how much I hate that you bike everywhere?"

 

"Only every time you see my baby." Harry said with that laughing voice, clearly referring to the plain black motorcycle that was a more modest version of the monstrosity Black rode.

 

"Motorcycles have 16 times the rate of of serious injuries compared to cars and fatalities—"

 

"Due to motorcycle accidents accounted for more than 18% of all accident fatalities last year, I know."

 

"And yet." She scrunched up her face in distaste.

 

"And yet," he confirmed, "I told you, I've been dreaming of motorcycles since before I knew what they were."

 

"And _I_ told you, you should see a psychiatrist about that."

 

"Come on, I'll drop you off at the bus stop."

 

"Promise to drive slow?"

 

"Yes, yes, now come on, all aboard the Flamont express." Absently Severus noted the French way he pronounced his last name. It struck a chord in him, that déjà vu that Creevey had also experienced but he that pushed aside in favour of following the man.

 

He flew fast, trying his best to keep up with Harry on the motorways. The traffic made it easier on his wings, he was quite out of practice with this form of flying. Eventually, they came upon a quiet neighbourhood, almost suburban but still fairly close to the city. Whoever took him in must have been quite well off for him to be able to afford the place. Severus didn't know much about muggle life but he knew that a young one of merely twenty five wouldn't have been able to afford to keep a place in this neighbourhood.

 

It had taken some surveillance, a bit of flying about looking at the names next to the buzzers and figuring out which flat he lived in and where it would look out, but eventually Severus found that his flat looked out onto the street. The best way Severus could keep an eye on Harry that was close but not too close was to watch him from the flat across the street. Severus' first experience with the voyeurs that lived across Harry Flamont, formerly Potter's flat set proved to be very informative.

 

Severus was convinced that he knew little to nothing of magic, certainly wasn't prone to any accidental magic. If nothing else, there would have been some curtains, something he used to ensure privacy if he was in the habit of performing magic. Instead the man closed no windows, no curtains, no shutters, living his life as if laying himself out for exhibition.

 

This much Severus knew, because the windowsill he was perched upon, was that of a house that was shared by four people. As night descended and the lights in Harry Flamont house were noted to be on, one of the residents sent a call out through the place, "The hot junior doctor's home!"

 

And as Severus watched the green eyed man across the street, he was joined by four other occupants of the flat came were seated in front of the biggest window in the house with pizza at hand.

 

"Please tell me he's cooking today." One of them, the red haired man who looked like he would be right at home in the Weasleys, said.

 

"I'm hoping for the DDR." The brunette girl with the permanently leery look on her face said.

 

"Violin?" One of the identical blonde twins said.

 

"I hope he goes out clubbing, picks up some tall dark and handsome and fucks against the window again." Said the other twin, binoculars in hand and trained on Harry.

 

"That stuff's like a solar eclipse, once in a lifetime event." Her sister consoled her.

 

"Oh, look, yep, he's cooking."

 

"Wonderful." The redhead said. His enthusiasm for Harry cooking stemmed from the fact that apparently he cooked shirtless with his hair tied up into a low ponytail.

 

The meticulous voyeurs that they were, they kept a track of his comings and goings. Severus soon learnt all about the young Harry's work schedule and was able to arrange his surveillance into a schedule that allowed him to continue his Hogwarts work as well.

 

Over three weeks he got to know him a little better.

 

Harry was a good cook.

 

He was a speed demon.

 

Any time he spent on his laptop was usually spent reading medical journals or watching porn.

 

Judging by his porn he was fairly narcissistic, attracted mainly to dark haired folk who had a lean build similar to his own.

 

He was bisexual, and according to the commentary from the people across the street, quite good at sex.

 

And most importantly, he showed no signs of being possessed by Voldemort's soul.

 

But that last tidbit irked Severus. He remembered very well how strongly he had been affected by the other horcruxes, Kreacher had gone quite mad after years of wearing it on him and even the cup compelled people to touch it, use it. How, then, was Harry able to resist the soul piece so well? Twenty something years of exposure to it should have left its mark, Nagini and Voldemort had been inexplicably linked, especially in the moments of great emotion, there was no way that Harry couldn't have felt a bond, somehow.

 

On the rare occasions that Severus perched himself on Harry's window itself, he found that after a while of observing the brunet, he felt some form of magic cast over him somehow.

 

Thus, finding the Flamonts who had taken him in seemed vital. He needed to figure out where and when it was possible for Harry to have come in contact with someone from the magical world who could have bound the soul shard.

 

* * *

 

It took three weeks but he finally got the chance.

 

"Someone's got a hot date." The pierced friend from the hospital said as she came across Harry a she was leaving the hospital. When Severus looked, he saw that Harry looked more put together than he had ever been, clean shaven, crisp shirt that he must have just changed into and a formal jacket instead of the usual leather fare he wore.

 

"God, no. She is way beyond anyone I could possibly bag."

 

"Oh?"

 

"It's my Mama's birthday. We don't celebrate it often but we do a big bash every five years. All of their friends from France are visiting and I must keep up appearances."

 

Now, Severus had the chance. He would follow Harry to his parents' home, find out their names and any possibility of contacting them, ask for a meeting, saying he was a friend of Harry's parents.

 

It turned to be harder than he thought. Harry rode his motorcycle fast and hard, deeper into the country than Severus expected. It took a considerable effort to keep up with him, some odd magic keeping him from casting any kind of tracking charm on him or the motorcycle. There was nothing to do but fly as hard as he could and Severus did. The exhaustion was tremendous and when finally the motorcycle slowed down, turning from the motorways into small country roads eventually coming to the sweeping driveway of a large manor with a distinct French flair to its architecture that gave it the appearance of a chateaux.

 

Later, Severus would blame his mistake on his exhaustion. There was no way he would fall for such a thing if he wasn't quite so tired. He had been in a meeting with the board of Governors just prior to the long flight he had to endure.

 

That was very probably why he didn't notice those little things that marked it out as a magical home from afar. That was why he simply continued flying, keeping only a slight distance from Harry. That was why he didn't notice the ward line he had crossed until it was too late and he was transported within seconds to a dungeon, manacled and warded into the tiny space as sounds of the party taking place on the floors above, filtered through the barred windows across from him.

 

That was why he found himself trapped.

 

 


End file.
